


You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry

by SweetPollyOliver



Series: Queer advocacy group AU [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Everyone is Queer, F/M, M/M, POV Bisexual Character, Trans Male Character, Trans!Stiles, Transgender, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetPollyOliver/pseuds/SweetPollyOliver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Stiles got angry with someone on the internet and one time he didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for: Transphobia, misgendering, use of a homophobic slur, fetishization of trans identities, biphobia, trans identities are othered by a minor character, bi erasure, in-character ableist language (mild) 
> 
> Some terminology notes: a binder is a compression garment used to flatten the chest; T is testosterone, cis/cisgender means someone who is not trans/transgender i.e. that they identify with the gender they were assigned at birth, top surgery refers to a double mastectomy in this instance (for trans women, or other male assigned at birth trans people, top surgery would refer to a breast augmentation).
> 
> This story is set after An Ass of You and Me and both during and after Lone Wolf (and Company). Ideally you should have read these two fics first. But if not, what you need to know for the context of this one is that Lydia set up a queer advocacy group when she became dissatisfied with how things were run in the university's LGBTQ club, Stiles is a bisexual trans guy, and Derek studies wolves. Since all the characters are are in Lydia's group, everyone is queer. 
> 
> As before, a thousand thank yous to dirtydirtychai for the beta. She really went above and beyond the call of duty on this one, seeing me through multiple drafts and contributing all the photoshopped images.

 

 

> _**From:** University of California at Faro Office of Residential Life  <residence@ucfaro.edu>_
> 
> _**Date:** September 12, 2013 6:14:24 PM PST_
> 
> _**Subject:** Re: Single Room Request_  
> 
> _Dear Ms. Stilinski,_
> 
> _We regret to inform you that single dorm room accommodations are no longer available for the fall 2013 semester. A wait list for the spring semester will become available near the end of the fall semester. In light of your special circumstances, you will be given priority placement should any single rooms become available in the intervening-_

Blah, blah, blah. Perfect. Just perfect.  
  
Seriously, they’d referenced his “special circumstances” _in the email_ , could they not have gone with just his name if they weren’t sure about the salutation? He clicks over to his sent box, checking to see if he’s already emailed this department in the last week.  
  
Ah. Not repeat offenders, at least not yet, anyway. Unlike the registrar’s office, his major advisor, a couple of idiots he’d been assigned group projects with, the student health clinic….  
  
Stiles bangs his head against his desk, thankful that Allison is out sucking face with Scott and not present to see him taking out his frustration on innocent home office furniture. Not that it’s so terrible, having Allison as a roommate, for all that she’d commandeered his best friend for kissing and groping duty when he was clearly scheduled for comforting and listening to impotent rage duty. She’s the first serious contender for beating out Scott McCall as Most Genuinely Nice Person Ever that Stiles has ever met. But Stiles had just… really been hoping for a room of his own. Preferably one with a private bathroom.  
  
Allison has been really cool about respecting his privacy, though. And he appreciates that it takes a special kind of person to be cool with leaving you alone one minute and then come help you get unstuck from a binder when you call the next.    
  
So, yeah, it could have been worse. He has to remind himself of that every time he wants to throw his laptop out the window at the thought of writing yet another email making the same damn correction. At least the rooming situation will probably only last until the next semester, and there’s also the possibility that he can get into any rooms that open up if someone drops out. And at least this is the result of an administrative fuck up rather than a fucked up administration.  
  
It could have been so much worse. He could be going to a school that doesn’t provide access to hormone replacement therapy in the student health clinic and he'd have to drive to a gender clinic off campus every month.  
  
He could be in a school that doesn’t have any gender neutral bathrooms at all, instead of just a handful of them, and he’d just have to deal whenever someone called him a dyke and told him to show them his cock if he was so sure he should be in the men's room. Since Danny, his knight in Armani armor, isn’t always in the engineering building when Stiles is, he’s gotten a lot better at holding it until he can get to the math building across the quad where the gender neutral bathrooms are.  
  
But yeah, it could have been worse. A lot worse. As it is though, it’s hard to count his blessings when there’s always another email or letter to “Ms. Stilinski” to answer.  It might be normal college bureaucracy rather than malicious bigoted bureaucracy that’s holding things up, but he’s so tired of going to classes all day and then having to do this shit before he can even get started on his readings and assignments, never mind having a social life.  
  
He certainly isn’t going to waste his precious little free time going to the LGBTQ for help. They’d had a total of two generic pamphlets for trans students, and no information about UC Faro’s policies when he’d gone there. What the hell was the T doing there then if they didn't make the time to look for a few goddamn trans resources was what he wanted to know. There’s time for three separate campaigns to repeal Prop 8 but no one has a clue what trans students might need help with? Add onto that the chortling cis gay guys who made jokes about how gross vaginas were, and, just, whatever man. Never fucking mind. Stiles can take his awesomeness elsewhere.  
  
And he would be, later tonight. He’d missed last week’s club meeting in favor of a Marvel movie marathon, and Monday he’d gotten a text from _Lydia freaking Martin_ demanding his presence at room 212 in the Student Union Thursday at 8, which he’d better come to since she knew he wouldn’t be at the LGBTQ club. Which, Stiles has no idea how Lydia even got his number, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth because this means she _paid attention to his comings and goings_ , right? He is officially On Lydia’s Radar. And no amount of bureaucratic stupidity is going to ruin that for him. Nope. Not even if Being On Lydia’s Radar apparently means getting cryptic texts that sound like drug deal setups.  
  
Stiles checks the time, but he’s still got a good hour before he needs to leave. He should grab dinner… maybe Scott and Allison will have worked up an appetite and will join him for burgers in the Union food court. He texts Scott, then writes a quick email explaining that he prefers — insists on, actually — male pronouns and titles (he’s gotten it down to a fine art at this stage — it’s the perfect mix of respectful correction and steely resolve). He’s about to log off of his school email account when a new message pops up in his in-box.

 

 

> _**From:** University of California at Faro Academic Advising Center  <advising@ucfaro.edu>_
> 
> _**Date:** September 12, 2013 6:43:12 PM PST_
> 
> _**Subject:** Your Scheduled Appointment_
> 
> _Dear Ms. Stilinski-_

Oh, for Christ’s sake.  
  
He sits with his fingers arched elaborately over his keyboard like a pianist for thirty long seconds. This should not be hard. Really, he could almost copy and paste his last email with a few minor adjustments….  
  
Later. Much later, and preferably after at least two milkshakes.  
  
The lid of his laptop clicks shut and he grabs his red hoodie from the back of the chair.

  
***  
  
Derek seems to be a nice guy, for a given value of nice that includes “brooding” and “subpar communication skills” but Stiles is doing all the heavy lifting in their fledgling friendship, and he’s not getting a lot to work with here.  
  
And what is the internet for if not for creeping on your distractingly hot new friends?  
  
Predictably, Derek doesn’t have a Facebook account. He does, however, have an account with a dating site, with what has to be a contender for the world’s least flattering profile picture. Given the baseline of Derek’s normal face to work against, that really is an accomplishment.

 

 

 The profile straddles the fine line between “what a douchebag” and “who hacked you?” and Stiles honestly isn’t sure which it is, although the last picture is making him lean towards hacked.

Once he’s stopped laughing, he sends Derek a twitterpated message, which may or may not be in the form of a Petrarchan sonnet and contain many references to the way his pants fit, before he gets back on track.

Derek's profile on the university website is sadly unexciting, in comparison. It’s all stuff Stiles vaguely knows already from Derek's limited conversational skills: he is a PhD candidate in ethology working on his dissertation on the mourning behaviors of gray wolves. Stiles thinks that this is probably cheating, because Derek was clearly raised by wolves.

 

 

> _Derek Hale attended New York University and received his bachelor’s degree in zoology there as well as a master’s in ethology. His master’s thesis examined displays of aggression and dominance across several canid species._

Riveting stuff, this. The picture of him wearing glasses in the sidebar is cute, though.  
  
It isn't until he leaves the university website and goes back to Google that Stiles gets to the good stuff. There’s a single article on the first page, sitting right up at the top under the search bar, that he’d neglected when he’d seen the lolariously named dating website. A little more digging and he finds five separate articles, two of them blog posts and three actual local and college newspaper articles, all about Derek leaving his degree in great umbrage.  
  
He had, apparently, had what could politely be referred to as a “difference of opinion” with one of his professors during a lecture about the biological evidence for the existence of bisexuality. Long story short, the professor thought there was none and Derek disagreed. One of the articles quoted, "If you're not going to consider the recorded behaviors of members of hundreds of species, of which humans are one, then I don't know what you will consider evidence!" Oh, god, this is beautiful.  
  
Oh wow, there’s a video.  
  
Oh wow, there’s _two_ videos. One of Derek being interviewed by the campus news blog for a fluff piece on LGBT rights and prejudice in academia (it had been the runup to Pride Week, according to the blog post) and one that someone had taken on their phone of the whole exchange.  
  
Stiles does some more googling.  
  
Is that his professor's blog? It totally is. There are about ten posts dating from what he seemed to be calling the Unfortunate Incident and they’re all about _professionalism_ and _the importance of rationality_ and how _a true scientist is free from personal bias_.  
  
Jesus Christ, is this guy kidding? Derek’s the one with the biases? Derek had totally started out calm in the video (or Bruce Banner-giving-it-a-last-ditch-effort-before-Hulking-out calm, anyway) talking about bonobos and giraffes and dolphins and, wow, lots of other animals. Nature’s awesome, apparently. It had only been after a good five minutes of this faux-polite back and forth that Derek had started to veer into “unprofessional” territory. The snark was strong with this one though, damn skippy.    
  
So. It’s possible that hot, snarky, grad student Derek Hale does have a weird douchey sense of humour or a bizarre fondness for wolf-related kitsch, and Stiles _doesn’t even care_ , because this? Is awesome. He’s never gone from vaguely crushing on someone to adding them to his potential spouses list so fast in his life. And icing on the cake — according to the blog post, Derek had transferred into Gender Studies the very next day.  
  
Gleeful, Stiles scans the blog post, but it doesn’t follow up with Derek after Pride Week. He clicks back to Derek’s university profile and- but. Hang on. It says right there that Derek finished out his master’s at the same university.  
  
His master’s in _ethology_. At the _same university_.    
  
And that ruins the whole coming of age indie movie thing this story had going up ‘til now.  
  
Because Derek must have gone back.  
  
The more he thinks about it the less hilarious it gets and the more angry he is. Because this isn’t just some random online video of a hot and eloquently sarcastic student calling out their professor; it’s someone he knows who got upset and who wasn’t listened to.  
  
He must have had to apologize to this asshole.  
  
Instead of meeting a cute gamine type who’d fixed his life by getting him to stop wearing ties and teaching him to use chopsticks badly, Derek had gotten stuck at the Act One “assholes exist and you have to put up with them and make nice to get by” part of his movie.  
  
Reality is deeply disappointing.  
  
Stiles goes back to Derek’s MatesForLife profile and writes him another sonnet, just because.  
  
***  
  
Not this shit again.  
  
The problem with Tumblr fandom is that there will always be at least one person who absolutely everyone follows who’s a great writer, or visual artist, or who does really awesome analysis, who turns out to have really, really shitty personal views.  
  
His current fandoms are no exception, apparently.  

 

 

  


Stiles forces himself to stop reading. If he keeps reading, he’ll just get angry. If he gets angry (angrier), he will engage, and going up against big name fans ends well for no man, and oh, look. He’s typing out a reply. Would you look at that.

 

 

  


There. That wasn’t overly harsh, right? He’d promised Scott that he’d at least try to be nice and give people a chance to educate themselves before pulling out the big guns. Even smug, superior shitheads like this moron. Here’s hoping they take their one shot at not being an asshole.  
  
Meanwhile, in tab number two, Adrian Harris’ “Rate My Teacher” page is getting a number of reviews from several anonymous students.  
  
Technically, Stiles doesn’t have any classes with him — hasn’t even met him — but he has the inside scoop on all things shitty about Harris in his capacity as an educator as well as his capacity as a biphobic asshole who makes Derek sad. Derek’s version of sad, anyway, which involves a lot of saying nothing while audibly brooding. Last week, while everyone was in the throes of cramming for finals, Derek had burst into the club room and stalked straight to the empty seat beside Stiles, scattering Scott’s Spanish conjugation worksheets in his wake. It had taken half an hour and three coffees to break him out of his conspicuous silence and get the story out of him.

 

 

> _“He spends most of the time comparing himself to Einstein and doesn’t really seem to know how to fill a two hour lecture otherwise.”_
> 
> _“Smells weirdly like pickles. It’s really distracting.”_
> 
> _“I made an appointment with him during office hours and he wasn’t even there! I found him trying to pick up this grad student in the Biochemistry and Ethology graduate building. Grad student wasn’t even into him.”_

He’ll talk to Danny about setting up a spam bot tomorrow to bomb the page with one-star ratings.  
  
He compulsively refreshes the tab with his school email account, but his last two finals grades still haven’t been posted. Stiles spins in his chair, casting his eyes over his room for one final sweep, but nope, everything except his laptop has been packed up for hours, and Allison’s things are in a stack by the door. Scott doesn’t want to leave before Allison, so he can help her move her stuff, and her dad won’t be arriving for another few hours yet.  
  
Stiles sighs, scrubs his hand against his hair — he needs a haircut — and considers texting someone, but no, everyone else will be packing and saying their goodbyes, and Derek will be grading final exams. Nothing he can do now but wait for Scott and Allison to show up.  
  
He spins his chair back around and refreshes his open tabs. Still no new emails — seriously, how long does it take to grade a multiple choice test, really — but his blog profile now shows a notification. It stares at him accusingly from the top of the page.  
  
 _ **Nietzscheandcrackers reblogged your post.**_  
  
He sighs and clicks it. Hey, who knows, maybe they did misspeak and now they're mortified and apologetic.

 

 

Looks like he'd be won’t be getting that apology. No big breakthroughs for the porcine aeronautics program, then.

 

 

This argument is starting to get to him, but he can hang in for now. Anxiety is temporary, the internet is forever, and he’s not going to let them win.

 

 

Stiles starts writing a reply, going back and fixing typos every other word because his damn hands keep shaking.

 

 

He stares at the blinking cursor for five minutes. This is good; he could post this and then just be done with the conversation. His stomach weaves itself into knots and his head shrinks two sizes smaller than his skull as his finger hovers over the post button.  
  
He closes the lid of his laptop and pushes away from the desk to just spin for a while in the middle of the freakishly clear floor. Why didn’t he think of this before? This is a much better way to spend his time then dealing with the fallout of daring to get upset by some fandom bigwig’s shittiness.  
  
Besides, he’ll be getting angry anonymous hate messages any minute now and he doesn’t really want to deal with that while he’s still riled up. That can wait ‘til the morning, along with unfollowing pretentionandcrackers so he doesn’t have to get angry every time he sees one of their posts on his dash. Although because _absolutely everyone_ follows them, he’ll probably have to block their username just to be sure.  
  
Seriously though, the fucking internet.  
  
***  
  
For a fourteen year old on the cusp of coming out — coming out twice for that matter — stumbling onto a Brokeback Mountain livejournal group had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. There was the obvious benefit of free porn that could masquerade as innocent black-on-white text whenever his dad poked his head in the door, but far more important was meeting a community of people who had validated his male identity and supported him. He’d never looked back.  
  
And, okay, fandom isn't perfect. There is a large contingent of people who are kind of creepily fetishistic of gay men and are in the unpleasant habit of referring to penetrative sex as "real" sex, and an even larger contingent who seem to believe that the rules of spelling, grammar, and good storytelling don’t apply to them, but it’s easy enough to just to exit out of the bad fic and keep going until he finds the authors he really likes in a fandom. People think fic is all crap, and sure, a lot of it is, but the stuff that’s good… well, it beats out a lot of the traditional media that’s out there in terms of quality and the “oh hey, a story with a protagonist I can relate to that I don’t have to quietly rewrite in my head so it doesn’t make me cry” factor.  
  
Sometimes though... sometimes shit like this happens.

 

 

Stiles cracks his knuckles and rotates his head from side to side, working out the kinks.

 

 

***  
  
Stiles loves Christmas. The cookies, the time he gets to spend putting up the tree and decorating it with his dad while arguing about whether Edward Scissorhands or Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home is more of a Christmas-y movie, all of it.  
  
What he doesn’t love is seeing assholes with red buckets ringing bells on each corner.  
  
“Do you have a dollar for the Salvation Army?”  
  
“Not today, Zurg.”  
  
The looks he gets from people when he says shit like this aren’t his favorite either.  
  
He can’t even escape them at home. Characters on TV shows are swinging bells by the end of episodes to show that they’ve learned the True Meaning of The Holidays(TM), and painfully unfunny radio DJs talk about how Christmas comes earlier every year because they tripped over a bellringer on the way to work.  
  
And it makes him feel like the Grinch, being That Guy who refuses to hand over his change while ignoring the open mouthed stares of the soccer mom and 6 year old standing next to him, but it’s not like he doesn’t give in a way that precludes assholes with bells getting up in his face.  
  
Stiles is not Grinch-like at all. He’s like the Anti-Grinch, really, he is _totally pro-spirit-of-giving_. He knits baby blankets for the hospital’s intensive care ward for premature babies like his mom used to (he’d been born a month early and used up his lifetime’s supply of punctuality). He makes pre-Christmas cookies for the neighbors around Thanksgiving as part of his campaign to get the most donations for the police station’s Toys for Tots drive. And it’s not like Stiles has a particular thing against non-holiday-related charity shops, quite the contrary. Stiles loves thrift stores. Stiles is _all about_ thrifting, because he is a cheap bastard.  
  
Well. That’s not entirely fair, but saving up for top surgery and enough money for an MA certainly has lead to behavior that could be categorized as cheap bastardry. His entire wardrobe comes from Goodwill, he scored the mini-fridge in his dorm room off freecycle, and he made all of his Christmas presents. (He hopes people like scarves… and don’t mind that they’re all made with the same orange yarn he got in the post-Halloween sale bin. But it can be a thing, they can all match. That’s cool and not pathetic and preschool, right?)  
  
Still though, there is no earthly force that will compel him to buy anything from a Salvation Army store. If they had barely owned unicorns for a quarter, he wouldn’t give them his money. Not one red cent for bigots.

 

 

***  
  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Hey! How are things?  
 **DerekHale:** Hi. Okay, I’m just grading papers. Might do some data entry later  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Data entry, hold me back! You still on campus? Not out Christmasing it up anywhere?  
 **DerekHale:** Yeah, it’s easier to work here.  I’ve mailed my presents, so I can work  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Cool  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Not lonesome or anything then?  
 **DerekHale:** With my constant e-companion beeping at me every few hours? When would I find the time?  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Someone woke up on the sassy side of bed  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Grading going that well, huh?  
 **DerekHale:** I swear to God, some of these undergrads must have just thought “I love the zoo!” when they were picking their major, I can’t see how else they ended up in zoology  
 **DerekHale:** And they seem so interested in their tutorial groups, I don’t get it  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Are any of these the students who keep making office hours appointments with you?  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Or that guy who studies in that nook around the corner from your office?  
 **DerekHale:** Yeah. I have no idea how he gets any work done there, there are people coming and going right by his elbow all the time. The library is right only a little ways away  
 **DerekHale:** Maybe he doesn’t like crowds or something. I’m not great with crowds  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Hey, you should tell him. Go down sometime and have a conversation with him about studying  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** It’d make his day :P  
 **DerekHale:** I’m not distracting him, not with the state his grades are in  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** LOL!  
 **DerekHale:** What’s so funny?  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Is he actually still there? Like, he didn’t go home for break?  
 **DerekHale:** Yeah, why?  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:**  … I know something you don’t know  
 **DerekHale:** What are you talking about?  
 **DerekHale:** Stiles, what??  
 **DerekHale:** >:- [  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** OMG that actually looks just like you!  
 **DerekHale:** Stiles.  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** It has your eyebrows and everything  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Dude, that is some old school emoticon-ing  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** When did you learn to internet?  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** But yeah  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** So have you seen Raiders of the Lost Ark?  
 **DerekHale:** Yeah  
 **DerekHale:** What’s your point?  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Remember the part where Indy’s teaching and the students are all going wild for him?  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** And there’s that one girl with the eyelids?  
 **DerekHale:** Still not seeing a point here  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** hahahaha  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** It’s called a teacher crush  
 **DerekHale:**  … no  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** LOL  
 **DerekHale:** This isn’t funny  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** It is a little funny  
 **DerekHale:** Oh my God  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** You spell it *OMG, but yes, continue  
 **DerekHale:** Shut up, I know about OMG and LOL and smiley faces. I’m not eighty  
 **DerekHale:** This is a joke right?  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** They are all thinking very bad thoughts about you  
 **DerekHale:** You’re *not* funny  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** How dare you, I’m being deadly serious  
 **DerekHale:** Who likes their teachers though? I’m sure you just made this up  
 **DerekHale:** Because you hate me and want to fill my life with uncertainty  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** You can fight it all you like, but the simple fact is that several teenagers are writing about you in their diaries at this very moment  
 **DerekHale:** Stiles  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Drawing hearts around your name  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Dreaming about the day you ask them into your office for ~extra study~  
 **DerekHale:** That is disgusting, stop it  
 **DerekHale:** This is... please tell me you’re joking? This can still be a joke  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Nope, afraid not  
 **DerekHale:** Shit. This is so inappropriate  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Teenage crushes on your TA? Nah  
 **DerekHale:** I look nothing like Indiana Jones  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Have you seen yourself?  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** You make angels feel ugly  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** With your face and your arms and your everything  
 **DerekHale:** …  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Hey, I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable  
 **DerekHale:** It’s okay  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** If it makes you feel any better, I don’t have bad thoughts about you or anything, lol  
 **DerekHale:** Thanks.  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** No problem, what are friends for? :D  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** So are you nearly finished with your grading then, because you should totally come over this weekend. I’m going to make Christmas cookies. Keep me company so I don’t break down over Scott abandoning me for Allison and her grandfather’s ranch  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** Afterwards we can go shopping, hit the sales. Maybe find you a less sexy jacket to discourage the young ‘uns  
 **DerekHale:** Maybe. Talk to me about it later  
 **DerekHale:** I have a lot of work to do here, but I might be able to  
 **i-am-the-nightlight:** I’m not interested in hearing excuses, Mr. Hale!  
 **DerekHale:** Fine, you pushy asshole. I’ll see you Saturday. My family has a house out your way and my mom wants me to look in on it anyway  
 **DerekHale:** Now give me some peace for five minutes so I can actually grade these damn papers  
  
Stiles grins so wide his cheeks hurt and punches the air. His chair swings with the momentum of it and his shin bangs against the desk.  
  
This is certainly progress from Thanksgiving.

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles is a much more confrontational blogger than me, so this was very difficult for me to write! As a disclaimer, he is not supposed to be 100% right, nor are the people he gets angry with supposed to be 100% wrong in every instance. For instance: I do not intend to tar all pansexuals as transphobic or biphobic. Some people have made the same arguments as NAC does in this fic, and when I was coming up with things for Stiles to get angry with the "bisexuality is transphobic" trope was an obvious choice because he's a bisexual trans man. 
> 
> Also with regards to the NAC section, I had them alternate between saying transmen, transwomen, transpeople and trans men, trans women, trans people. This was a stylistic choice because I wanted to get as many microagressions in as possible for Stiles and leaving no space between trans and man, woman, or people is considered transphobic by many trans people. Here's a link to a blog post on the subject: http://takesupspace.wordpress.com/2008/10/15/put-the-goddamn-space-in-transwoman-transfeminism-transmasculine-etc-language-politics-1/
> 
> Similarly, NAC refers to "biological sex" which is largely considered problematic and it's better to use "assigned at birth sex." They also use the term "female bodied" which is problematic too. As Stiles would say, "It's my body, I'm not female. If you don't think my body is male then you might want to rethink your definintion of 'male.'" These were also put in to be microaggressions.
> 
> As a final disclaimer, I am trans, but I do not share many of Stiles' experiences. He is a binary trans man on hormones, on-track for top surgery, who's out at college. I'm a non-binary genderqueer, I'm not on hormone replacement therapy, or pursuing it, and I while I am out in some circles I am not out at college. Also, he's from California and I'm from Ireland, so there are big gaps in our experiences there! If I've gotten anything wrong or misrepresented anything do not hesitate to call me out.


End file.
